Triple Threat
by Dead Composer
Summary: Episode 1 of The Incredible Series. We've seen how the heroes live. What about the villains?
1. Defeated in Battle

This story is rated PG for violence.

Disclaimer: Pixar owns The Incredibles.

----

Night had fallen over Metroville. Dozens of citizens wearing fine suits, fur coats, and jewelry streamed out of the opera house doors. Among them were Robert "Bob" Parr, an insurance adjuster with a bulky torso and an equally bulky spare tire, and his much shorter wife, Helen.

"An excellent performance all around," Bob remarked.

"I agree," Helen responded. "But next time, when Calaf is trying to guess Turandot's riddles, try to resist the urge to whistle the Jeopardy theme."

"Uncultured swine," a passing old woman snapped at him.

As the loving couple walked toward their parked car, a sound like the smashing of stone mixed with the shattering of glass echoed through the busy street.

"Great Scott!" exclaimed Bob. "What was that noise?"

"It came from that direction," said Helen, pointing to the west. "I'll check it out."

Ducking into a nearby alley, she stretched her ultra-flexible body two hundred feet into the air, gaining a bird's-eye view of the surrounding cityscape. Five blocks away, something resembling a pair of spotted tentacles was waving about. One of the tentacles reared back and lunged, striking the front wall of a building and crushing the granite into rubble.

Helen whipped back into her normal shape and rejoined her husband. "Someone, or something, is robbing the Worst National Bank of Metroville," she informed him. "It looks pretty strong. I don't know if the police..."

"Say no more," Bob interrupted her. "This is a job for The Incredibles!"

"But our costumes are in the car," Helen protested.

Bob raised his fist into the air. "To the parking garage!"

They ran as quickly as they could, Bob huffing and puffing from the exertion, Helen winning a little extra speed by stretching her legs. They had hidden their superhero costumes in a secret compartment under the back seat. Fearing someone might see them changing into their costumes, they climbed inside the vehicle to do so. The car was quite small, not nearly as spacious and accessorized as the Incredimobile had been, back in Mr. Incredible's glory days. Bob's hulking frame left little breathing room for Helen, who resorted to squeezing her body while putting on her indestructible leotard.

The car doors nearly broke off as they sprang out, clad in their bright red costumes and black masks. They assumed heroic poses and glanced affectionately at each other.

"All we need now is a battle cry," said Mr. Incredible.

"What do we need a battle cry for?" asked Elastigirl.

"Because I don't like uncomfortable silences."

To cut short their travel time, Elastigirl twisted her body into a spring, wrapped around her husband, and bounced the five blocks to the Worst National Bank. The entire front of the building had been demolished, and alarm bells were ringing within.

Mr. Incredible pushed aside an overturned Ferrari as Elastigirl molded into her usual form. "Whoever they are," said the man of muscle, "they're still inside."

"No, we're not," came a mocking woman's voice from above.

A bizarre, but not uncommon, sight greeted their eyes as they looked up--a female figure in a tight blue spandex costume with a snake symbol emblazoned on the chest. She stood on the ledge of the bank's roof, flanked by two piles of bags containing stolen money. A blue bandanna mask concealed her face and hair.

"A supervillainess," Elastigirl observed. "Let me handle her."

"Are you sure? She just trashed the whole bank. She's stronger than she..."

As Mr. Incredible spoke, the costumed woman's left arm swelled and stretched, shooting down at him with incredible speed. The collision sent him crashing through layers of asphalt and concrete, until he finally came to rest in the dank floor of the sewer.

From Elastigirl's perspective, the villainess' arm had transformed into a snake-like appendage, more than a dozen yards long, extending through an enormous, fresh pothole in the street. Her husband was nowhere to be seen.

"Bob!" she cried out in fear. "Uh, I mean, Mr. Incredible!"

She had no time to ponder on his fate, as the strange woman's other arm had also turned into a snake, and was plummeting in her direction. Literally bending over backwards to evade it, she performed several back somersaults until she reached the opposite sidewalk. She glowered at the mysterious snake woman, as if hurling a challenge.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"You can call me Anna Konda," the villainess answered.

"What's that? I can't hear you."

"I said, ANNA KONDA!"

With that, she retracted her right tentacle arm from the crater it had made, and fired it across the street. It seemed to Elastigirl as if she was facing an incredibly long spotted snake with five massive fingers for a head. The tentacle moved at fantastic speed and coiled around her before she had a chance to dodge. Few things could hold Elastigirl, however, and she easily wriggled out of Anna Konda's death grip by contorting her body. Infuriated by the rubbery heroine's refusal to die, the villainess yanked her left arm out of the asphalt, and Elastigirl found herself battling two gigantic, writhing, coiling snakes. She couldn't comprehend how Anna Konda's body stood up to the physical strain of controlling such massive limbs.

In the sewer below her feet, Mr. Incredible groaned from the bruises and muscle aches inflicted by the blow of the snake fist, as well as the rank stench filling the tunnel. Swallowing his pain, he leaped to his feet, bent his knees, and pounced upward through the gaping hole. He landed with a powerful thump on the sidewalk in front of the bank. While he devised a strategy for dealing with the snake woman's fast-moving appendages, he felt an unexpected tapping at his shoulder.

He turned around, and a fist plowed into his chin. The next thing he knew he was lying ten feet away, and a man wearing a blue spandex suit and matching bandanna was standing over him, smirking triumphantly.

He jumped up and confronted the strange man. "I've had worse," he boasted.

"Let's see what you can do, Mr. Inedible," the spandex-clad man mocked him.

Goaded into action, the man of muscle drew back his left fist and let it fly with all his might. It came within a few inches of the man's face before encountering an invisible barrier...and bouncing off harmlessly.

"Owww!" roared Mr. Incredible, shaking his fingers. The pain only made him angrier, and he lashed out at the masked man with his right fist. The effect was the same--an unseen obstacle stopped his punch cold.

The man was clearly protected by some form of defensive energy wall, and hurting him was simply a matter of applying a superior opposing force. "Deflect THIS!" bellowed Mr. Incredible as he grabbed a fallen chunk of granite and threw it with tremendous power. The rock shattered into fragments against the mysterious man, but after the dust cleared he was still on his feet, unfazed.

"The laws of physics don't apply where I'm concerned," the man gloated. "My mental barrier can neutralize any force directed against it, no matter how strong. For I am...IMPREGNABLE MAN!"

Mr. Incredible laughed derisively. "You need a new press agent, pal," he remarked.

"What's wrong with my name?" his foe complained. "Are you making fun of my name?"

As Mr. Incredible pounded uselessly against Impregnable Man's barrier with fists, rocks, and anything else he could wrap his hands around, Elastigirl had succeeded in binding Anna Konda's snake arms together by twisting around them like a pretzel. The tentacles possessed incredible strength, however, and her stamina was beginning to give out. As she gasped and strained, yet another spandex-clad figure strolled casually in her direction. At first her sweat-soaked eyes reported that the newcomer had the shape of a young teenage girl, but then she blinked, and a young teenage boy was pulling off his bandanna mask before her.

She had never seen anything like his face--it seemed to radiate beauty. Flowing blond locks cascaded about the sides of his perfectly sculpted head. Despite herself, Elastigirl stopped caring about her battle against the bank-robbing villains. She only wanted to gaze into the youth's gorgeous face until the end of time. She relaxed her grip on Anna Konda's tentacles and slowly resumed human shape, her eyes remaining fixed on the boy.

"Like what you see?" he said in a petulant tone. "Of course you do. For I am...THE TRANSFIXER!"

While Elastigirl stood hopelessly mesmerized, Anna Konda raised a tentacle high into the air and let it plunge toward Mr. Incredible, who was hammering at Impregnable Man's shield with a volley of punches. It struck him directly in the back, driving him forward into the invisible barrier...which didn't move.

The age-old question of an irresistible force meeting an immovable object remained unanswered, but Mr. Incredible had just learned from firsthand experience what happened to someone who got between them. He felt as if all his internal organs were fighting to escape through his throat. His muscles screamed in agony. He struggled for breath.

As Anna Konda's snake fist withdrew, he fell onto his back and became quite unconscious.

Impregnable Man surveyed the incapacitated hero with pleasure. "He won't be leaping over tall buildings for a while," he quipped.

No longer troubled by The Incredibles, Anna Konda employed her snake arms to load the bags of ill-gotten money into a small, rocket-shaped, three-seater vehicle parked on the bank roof. Once finished, she stretched out her tentacles, picked up the two accomplices, and hauled them onto the roof. The boy known as The Transfixer had been replaced by a teenage girl with flowing blond locks, who proceeded to tie her bandanna mask over her head.

Elastigirl snapped out of her trance and shook her head in confusion. "Huh...?"

Alarmed by the sight of her prostrate husband, she sprang to his side and attempted to revive him. The sound of a rocket motor reached her ears from the top of the bank building. The small vehicle bearing Anna Konda, Impregnable Man, and the boy-turned-girl known as The Transfixer was rapidly rising into the sky, fire shooting from its underbelly.

"They're getting away," Elastigirl muttered silently. "I can't stretch far enough to stop them."

While she urged her husband to regain consciousness, the escaping villains exulted over their success.

"The Incredibles are no match for us," boasted Impregnable Man.

"Our powers are more powerful than their powers," gloated Anna Konda.

"Nothing can stop Triple Threat!" cried The Transfixer.

As the three-seater rocket vanished into the night sky, Mr. Incredible's eyelids fluttered open. "Urrrgh..." he moaned.

"Are you all right, dear?" asked Elastigirl with concern.

"Replace every organ in my body, and I'll be good as new," mumbled the man of muscle.

Relieved that her husband still had a sense of humor, Elastigirl fondly embraced him.

"Owww..." he grimaced. "Please don't embrace me there."

----

What is the terrible secret of Triple Threat (besides their evil superpowers and stuff)? Will The Incredibles be able to stop them? Don't miss the next thrilling chapter!


	2. New Neighbors

The rocket vehicle carrying the members of Triple Threat and their stolen loot descended quietly onto a residential street, and reshaped itself into a station wagon. Its headlights switched on, and it rolled inconspicuously through the Metroville neighborhood.

Impregnable Man, Anna Konda, and The Transfixer had automatically switched into civilian garb. The blond girl in what was now the back seat wore a blouse and ruffled miniskirt, and her flowing hair had been parted so that it completely covered the left side of her face. The woman in the passenger seat turned to her and smiled. "What do you plan to do with your share of the money, Chris?"

"Oh, I don't know," the girl said with gloomy indifference. "Clothes, I guess. Or maybe a stereo system."

They pulled into a driveway next to a modest, pastel blue house. Once concealed inside the garage, they started to move the bags of money from the trunk into a storage room. Anna Konda performed most of the labor with her super-strong snake arms.

Impregnable Man entered the living room to find a teenage girl with cropped black hair and braces, watching TV with an eighteen-month-old little boy. "Any visitors, Phoebe?" he inquired.

"None, Mr. Hamilton," replied the black-haired girl. "And Billy was a perfect little angel. He didn't levitate a single thing."

"Thanks, Phoebe," said Mr. Hamilton, a.k.a. Impregnable Man, as he drew a $100 bill from his pocket and handed it to the girl.

"Gee, thanks," said Phoebe delightedly. She picked up her purse and departed through the front door, still curious to know where the Hamiltons came up with so much money, yet not daring to ask.

In the bedroom of Chris Hamilton, a.k.a. The Transfixer, the girl was lying across her bed, staring at the boy band posters on the wall and sighing. Her mother, a.k.a. Anna Konda, found her in this state and asked, "What's wrong, honey?"

Chris looked up at her with doleful eyes. "I hate boy bands," she remarked.

"I understand, dear," said Mrs. Hamilton gently.

"And I hate having to wear my hair like this," Chris complained. "And I hate having to say 'like' all the time. In short, I'm tired of pretending to be an average girl."

"Yes, dear," said her mother, reaching down to massage the girl's shoulder blades. "But you know we can't afford to attract attention to ourselves. If the heroes ever find out that there's also a relocation program for villains..."

"I know, Mom," Chris acknowledged. "But there's more I haven't told you. The money we stole tonight brings us one step closer to finding a cure for my condition." She let out a sigh of embarrassment. "But I don't know if I'm ready to be cured."

"Don't you want to have a normal life?" asked her mother.

"Yes," the girl continued. "It's just that...after I'm cured, I won't be able to switch back and forth anymore. I've spent most of my life as a girl. I don't know what it's really like to live as a boy. If I could stay a boy for a year or two, I might find that I like it better."

"You'd still have to hide your face," Mrs. Hamilton told her. "You can't wear a mask everywhere you go, and boys don't part their hair to cover their faces."

"That's just it, Mom. I'm forced to stay a girl just because girls have more freedom when it comes to hairstyles. It doesn't seem right."

"Part of being normal is not being able to choose whether you're a girl or a boy," said her mother. "You'll have to get used to it."

"Okay," said Chris in a resigned tone.

Leaving her daughter, Mrs. Hamilton joined her husband in the kitchen and took baby Billy out of his hands. The toddler pointed his hand at a coffee mug, and squealed with amusement as it floated into the air.

"Stop that," scolded his mother, giving his hand a slap. "Bad Billy." She stretched her free arm into a tentacle, catching the mug before it fell and shattered.

"So," said Mr. Hamilton as he put on his night glasses, "what's eating Chris tonight?"

"Same old thing," his wife replied. "The poor girl. You'd think stopping people cold with your face would be a great power to have."

"I was thinking," the man of the house suggested, "now that we have some time to ourselves, we ought to go over and visit our new neighbors."

"Great idea," Mrs. Hamilton agreed. "It's been what now, a week since they moved in? Who knows what crazy theories they've developed about us?"

Half an hour later, the Hamilton family stood on the doorstep of the house next door. Chris rang the doorbell, and shortly a tall man with a broad, muscular chest answered.

"Good evening," said Mr. Hamilton. "We're the Hamiltons, your neighbors."

"Nice to meet you," said the muscle-bound man, shaking hands with the visitor. "I'm Robert Parr."

----

Do you want more? Should I continue?


	3. Getting to Know You

As the Hamilton family stepped into the new home of the Parrs, Helen was prompted to extend a hand of greeting. Avoiding the temptation to literally "extend" her hand, she walked over to the guests in a normal fashion. "I'm Helen Parr," she introduced herself.

"Ike Hamilton," said Mr. Hamilton, whose head came up to the level of Robert's collarbone. "My wife Gloria, and our daughter, Chris."

"Wonderful," remarked Helen as she lay eyes on the girl. "I have a daughter about the same age." She turned and summoned her children. "Dash, Vi, we have visitors."

Into the living room hurried the two oldest children, fifth-grade Dash and high school freshman Violet. Baby Jack-Jack was tottering on his feet nearby, struggling to take his first steps.

"What a cute baby," gushed Mrs. Hamilton, who set down her little Billy so that the toddlers could frolic together.

"Hey, nice hairdo," Violet complemented the neighbor girl. "I used to wear my hair like that, until I started wearing a barette."

"I like it this way," Chris lied, making a quick brushing motion to make sure that the left half of her face was completely hidden.

"We just moved here from Municiberg," Bob told Mr. Hamilton. "I work in the insurance industry. And you?"

"I install security systems," Ike responded. "We've been living here since we were married."

Dash suddenly popped up in front of Chris and asked her a rude question. "Do you have a face behind all that hair?"

"Yeah, I do." Glancing around to make sure the men weren't watching her, Chris drew aside the blond hair blanketing her face. As Dash beheld her true appearance, he felt so irresistibly attracted to the girl that he couldn't move or look away.

"I think he's in love," remarked Violet. Chris allowed her hair to fall over her face again, and Dash started to reflect on the strangeness of what he had just experienced.

Chris, accepting Violet's invitation to check out her room, followed the raven-haired girl. Violet's bedroom was neatly organized, the bed sheets carefully arranged and free of wrinkles. Her walls were decorated with posters of various paintings, both classical and contemporary--Van Gogh, Monet, Gaugin, Warhol.

"Oh, my God," exclaimed Chris breathlessly when she recognized one of the posters on the far wall. "Robert Mapplethorpe!"

She caught herself, remembering that it was her duty to appear unexceptional and mediocre. "Uh...who's that?" she asked stupidly.

"A photographer," Violet informed her. "I like to take pictures. I also like to paint. My house in Municiberg had an extra room I could use as a studio, but this house is so small, I can't sneeze without getting someone wet."

"Will you show me something you've painted?" Chris asked.

"Sure." Violet pulled open the top drawer of her desk, and took out several framed acrylic paintings. "They're mainly forest and mountain renderings, taken from photos. I try to capture the essence of the scenes instead of the details."

"They, uh, look weird," said Chris, although she greatly admired Violet's skill at conveying the grandeur of nature through simple shapes.

"You have a nice face," Violet complimented her. "I wouldn't cover it up if I were you."

"Why not?" said Chris flippantly. "The left side looks just like the right side."

"So what do you like to do?" Violet inquired.

"Oh, the usual. Hang out with friends, shop for clothes, listen to boy bands."

As the Hamiltons departed for their own house, they shared their impressions of the Parr family. "I think they'll make a good addition to the neighborhood," Mrs. Hamilton opinionated.

"Violet has so much in common with me," Chris related. "I'd rather hang out with someone like her than with the shallow girls at school."

"I know, dear," said her mother. "But given our family situation, you can't afford to have more than a superficial relationship with anyone."

"There's something uncannily familiar about those two," Mr. Hamilton mused. "I can't quite place it."

"If I were a boy, I think I'd want to have a girlfriend like Violet," said Chris wistfully.

"Don't get any ideas," Mrs. Hamilton cautioned her.

----

A/N: Sorry this chapter is short.


	4. The Masks We Wear

Violet hated the fact that art class took place during first period. Once it was over, she had nothing to look forward to the rest of the school day.

"It's brilliant," Mr. Garner, the art teacher, commended her for the watercolor she had partially completed. "I like how the shades of red gradually change. And the kinetic lines practically jump off the canvas."

"Thanks," said Violet bashfully.

She was perfectly visible walking the halls of Shadowglen High School, where she had just started as a freshman, but didn't feel like it. Only a few isolated students flashed grudging smiles at her, but most passed by her in self-absorbed clumps. With all her heart she wanted to reach out to a boy, or even a girl, seated alone on a bench, but dared not. She shared little common ground with the other high schoolers, having mostly abandoned social and recreational pursuits in favor of superheroics. What would she talk to them about? How proud she was that she had successfully created a force field around a tour bus?

A quartet of babbling girls appeared before her, and to her elation, one of them was her neighbor, Chris. At least she would be recognized.

"Uh, hi, Chris," she greeted the blond girl.

Chris turned and let out a delighted gasp. "Violet! You're my neighbor, and you go to my school! What are the odds? Girls, this is my neighbor, Violet Parr."

"Hi, Violet," said the other three girls with slight waves.

The group then resumed its conversation as Violet stood and listened.

"And my dad was like, 'She doesn't have any talent. She's just lip-synching.' And I was like, 'She is so not lip-synching. She's totally using her own voice.' And he was all, 'No way. This is totally fake.' And I was like, 'Whatever.'"

"I can totally identify with you, Brittany."

"And then he was like, 'If you want to hear people use their real voices, go to the opera.' And I was like, 'As if. I am so not gonna sit through an opera. They're, like, forty hours long, and stuff.'"

"Totally."

Chris watched through the corner of her eye as Violet shrugged and walked away. She wanted so very badly to walk alongside the raven-haired girl and discuss some meaningful subject. And she would, but in her own time and manner.

As the bulk of the student body enjoyed lunch in the cafeteria, she found a lonely spot on the edge of the campus, where she stood behind a tree and made a call on her cell phone.

"Hello?" came a gravelly female voice.

"Edna," said Chris warmly, "this is Chris Hamilton."

"Hamilton?" the voice repeated. "I don't know any Hamiltons."

"I'm The Transfixer."

"Oooh!" cried Edna, her exclamation of joy almost breaking the girl's eardrum. "It's so good to hear from you. How's the new costume working?"

"Uh, pretty well so far," Chris replied. "It gives me all the support I need. Gets a little tight in the crotch when I turn into a boy, but that's not often."

"Happy to hear it," Edna went on. "Transgender suits are difficult to do well, especially for a subject entering puberty. As soon as you feel like you've outgrown the suit, don't hesitate to..."

"I'm not calling about the suit," Chris interrupted. "How are you at masks, E?"

She heard a brief silence. "Masks...masks...what sort of masks? Cowl? Bandanna?"

"I want something to change my face. My boy face, not my girl face."

Another silence. "Have you talked to your parents about this?"

"No," Chris admitted. "I don't want them to find out. They wouldn't understand."

"So you want to adopt a male persona," Edna mused. "May I ask for what purpose?"

The blond girl fumbled for words. "I...I just want another identity so I can do things without drawing attention to my family."

"I think there's something you're not telling me," said Edna wickedly.

Chris sighed. "There's this girl..."

"Say no more," said Edna. "Just send me a scan of your boy face by email, and I'll have the mask to you by tomorrow. I won't breathe a word to your parents."

----

More to come...


	5. Rematch

The next day, as Violet was waiting at the curb in front of the high school for Mrs. Parr to drive up, a most surprising thing happened. A boy stopped to talk with her.

The boy was tall and well-built, and had long blond hair tied in a ponytail behind his head. His face was smooth, devoid of stubble, and of moderate attractiveness. He wore a pinstriped shirt, tan slacks, and casual shoes. A dark red book bag was strapped to his back. "Hi," he said warmly. "My name's Marvin."

"I'm violent," the black-haired girl replied. "Uh, I mean, I'm Violet."

"Are you new here?" Marvin inquired. "I just noticed you."

"Uh-huh."

The boy spoke without a hint of nervousness. "So...what do you like to do?"

The same wasn't true of Violet, whose stomach was filling with flying insects. "Um, uh, I like to, uh, read, and paint, and take pictures, and, uh, listen to classical music."

"Cool," said Marvin, brushing a blond hair from his face. "Who's your favorite artist?"

"Van Gogh."

"Favorite author?"

"Hawthorne."

"Favorite composer?"

"Shostakovich."

"You have good taste," Marvin complimented her as Helen Parr pulled up to the curb in the small family car.

"It was nice to meet you, Marvin," said Violet with an embarrassingly toothy grin.

"We should talk again," the young man said eagerly. "Can I get your phone number?"

Violet nearly dropped dead from the shock. A boy was asking for her number. She would remember this day.

"Uh, sure." She repeated her telephone number to him, requiring three attempts to get it right due to her anxiety.

Helen lowered the car window and stuck out her head. "Let's go, Vi. Dash is getting impatient."

In the back seat, the blond fifth-grader was squirming in his seat belt. "Mom, I gotta go real bad," he whined.

Bidding farewell to Marvin, Violet climbed into the passenger seat. "Mom, you won't believe this," she recounted. "That boy you saw me with? He asked for my number."

"That's wonderful, dear," said Mrs. Parr, staring forward at the street ahead.

"It's the end of the world as we know it..." Dash began to sing.

After watching the vehicle disappear around a bend, Marvin hurried to the empty school gymnasium. Glancing about to make sure he was unseen, he reached up and started to peel what looked like a layer of skin from his face. A moment later he was holding a lifelike mask in his hands, and his visage had changed from unremarkable to intensely gorgeous. His transformation didn't stop there, however--as he pushed open the door to the girls' locker room, his entire body started to decrease in height.

He--now a she--emerged several minutes later as Chris Hamilton, clad in a blouse and skirt, the left side of her face covered with long, straight hair. She whistled nonchalantly while walking the seven blocks to her house.

"How was school, dear?" asked her mother, Gloria Hamilton, who was reading a parenting magazine in the study.

"Fabulous," Chris replied. "Violet, the girl next door, goes to Shadowglen. I would've talked to her, but I was too busy with my friends."

"That's the spirit," said Mrs. Hamilton.

Upon retiring to her bedroom, Chris pulled from her bag the shirt, slacks, and shoes she had worn as Marvin, and squirreled them away in a secret closet compartment where she kept several changes of boy clothes. "If my parents find this stuff, they'll kill me," she muttered to herself.

----

Time passed.

In the Parr residence, Bob and Helen called their school-age children, Dash and Violet, together. Their somber expressions suggested that they were about to make a serious request.

"One hour from now," Bob told them, "an armored car will drive through downtown Metroville, protected by a police caravan. The official story is that the car will transport a shipment of gold bullion to an undisclosed location. In reality, the car will be empty. It's a setup to lure out Metroville's most dangerous team of supervillains--Triple Threat!"

"Whoooa," Dash marveled. "Time for a rematch, huh?"

"Exactly," said Helen. "Only this time, we want you and Violet to help us bring them to justice."

"Sure," said Violet eagerly. "Shouldn't be much of a fight. Four of us, three of them."

"It'll be dangerous," Bob warned her.

"Danger is my middle name," Dash boasted. "Dashiell Robert Danger Parr."

Mrs. Parr opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of a car gunning its motor stopped her. Through the picture window they saw the Hamiltons in their station wagon, pulling out of their driveway and zooming away at supra-residential speed.

"They sure are in a hurry," Dash remarked.

"Who did you get to watch Jack-Jack?" Violet asked.

"Phoebe's busy tonight," replied Mrs. Parr, "so I asked Marcie to come over."

"A wise man once said, 'To defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy,'" Bob lectured the kids. "So before we go out and get our butts kicked again, we need to develop a strategy for dealing with the individual members of Triple Threat."

"The toughest member is Anna Konda," Helen related. "She can turn her arms into giant snakes. These snakes have super strength and can move very fast. If one of them hits you or coils around you, you'll be lucky to survive, so stay away from them."

"Gotcha, Mom," said Dash unworriedly.

"Then there's Impregnable Man," Bob added. "He can make a barrier around himself that stops any force--except for gravity, or else he'd float away. It's obvious that his barrier has a weak spot at the bottom, otherwise it would neutralize the force of the ground against his feet, and he would sink into the earth."

"Gotcha, Dad," said Violet.

"There's one other member," said Helen. "A boy. He called himself The Transfixer. I'm not sure about the exact nature of his powers, but when I looked at his face, I fell into some sort of trance. So try not to look at him."

"Especially you, Violet," Dash joked.

"Zip it," his sister grumbled.

"Suit up, kids," Bob ordered. "The Incredibles are going into battle!"

----

On Commerce Street in central Metroville, terrified bystanders witnessed a bizarre tableau. A Brinks armored car, along with the squad cars and police motorcycles that accompanied it, had come to a stop. All of the male officers and drivers gazed mindlessly into the face of a petite blond girl who stood in the middle of the street, barring their way. The few policewomen present left their vehicles, bewildered by the caravan's sudden halt.

Without warning a masked, spandex-clad woman appeared from an alley, propelling herself on two fifty-foot tentacles that took the place of her arms. As she swatted aside several of the police cars, the female officers drew their guns and opened fire blindly. The bullets failed to penetrate the tough skin of Anna Konda's snake arms.

While his wife distracted the police, Mr. Hamilton, a.k.a. Impregnable Man, rushed across the street toward the armored car. As passers-by watched in disbelief, he plowed into the side of the vehicle, crushing the protective steel panels like so much cardboard. He appeared to their astonished eyes as an unstoppable human battering ram.

Yet despite his incredible power, he had come up empty-handed. As he extricated himself from the wreckage of the car's wall he demanded, "Where's the gold?"

"No gold?" Anna Konda realized the truth in horror. "It's a trap!"

As the bullets fired by the policewomen bounced off Impregnable Man's mentally-generated shield, his wife lowered a tentacle and wrapped it around his midsection. Her other snake arm coiled around The Transfixer, who had released her hair and allowed it to conceal half of her face again. As she retreated she held her husband in front of herself and her daughter, so that his barrier protected them against the officers' weapons.

They fled into the alley from which Anna Konda had emerged, only to find their way blocked by a quartet of defenders. "The Incredibles!" cried the snake woman.

"And they've got backup!" Impregnable Man observed.

Indeed, Mr. Incredible, Elastigirl, Violet, and Dash had donned their super suits and placed themselves in the path of the three criminals.

Dash looked up at his mother. "I thought you said The Transfixer was a boy."

"Wait," muttered Violet as she tried to examine the girl's face through the dim light. "She looks familiar..."

Anna Konda spoke a few words of strategy to her spandex-sporting husband and daughter, and then all of a sudden, the blond girl grew a foot in height. Her costume stretched in some parts and shrank in others as her form changed from female to male. The Transfixer pulled back his hair, revealing his whole face.

This time both Elastigirl and Violet became motionless, victims of the boy's enchanting good looks. Before Mr. Incredible could decide whether to attack his enemies or attempt to bring the girls out of their trances, Anna's right snake arm rocketed forward, slamming into his belly and hurling him backwards. Her left arm flew at Dash in a similar manner, but the quick-moving boy evaded it by running backwards at the speed of sound.

He failed to watch where he was going, however, and his back collided with a brick wall, knocking the breath from his lungs. He recovered and regained his footing quickly, then had to dodge as his father's body, still sailing through the air after Anna's punch, smashed into the same wall.

"Dad!" Dash called to Mr. Incredible, who lay on his side under a pile of crumbling bricks.

"I'm...okay...son," the man of muscle grunted. "Go...help...the girls."

Dash was young and inexperienced, but far from stupid. It was clear to him now that The Transfixer could only entrance females while in his male persona, which meant his mother and sister would be back in the fight once he took out the pretty boy. His actions as rapid as his thoughts, he hurtled forward at top speed toward the spot where he had last seen The Transfixer.

Sadly for him, Impregnable Man had anticipated his move, and stood between his son/daughter and the young speedster. Unable to stop himself in time, Dash forcefully struck the villain's impenetrable shield and bounced backwards. One of Anna Konda's tentacles coiled around him before he had a chance to hit the ground.

By this time Mr. Incredible had returned to action, but only to face a hopeless situation. The Transfixer still held Violet and Elastigirl in his thrall, Impregnable Man was leaning against a wall with a carefree expression, and Anna Konda was waving one of her snake arms in the air, the barely conscious Dash wrapped in its coils.

"Stand down," the villainess barked, "or the boy dies."

----

The battle continues in the next chapter!


	6. The Truth

"Don't hurt him!" Mr. Incredible pleaded. "Don't hurt my son!"

Seeing that the man of muscle was at her mercy, Anna Konda gestured with her free hand for her companions to follow her. "Don't do anything stupid," she warned Mr. Incredible. "I can crush him with a thought."

Still holding the semi-conscious Dash high above her head, the snake woman walked deeper into the alley, accompanied by Impregnable Man and The Transfixer. Desperate for his son's safety, Robert Parr made no attempt to intervene as they passed by him and eventually disappeared from view.

Elastigirl and Violet shook their heads. "Oh, no," the rubbery heroine moaned. "He did it to me again."

"And me," her daughter lamented.

Helen Parr looked around the alleyway. "Where's Dash?"

The roar of a rocket engine hit their ears. The same flying vehicle which Triple Threat had used to escape after the bank robbery, was now floating into the sky above them.

"They won't get away this time," Elastigirl vowed. "Bob! Throw me!"

Before Mr. Incredible could decide on a course of action, the canopy of the rocket vehicle split open, ejecting Dash. The boy plunged toward Earth, screaming, while Triple Threat jetted away to the horizon.

"Throw me NOW!" shrieked Elastigirl.

He didn't need to be asked a third time. Wrapping a hand around his wife's waist, he heaved with all his strength, sending the woman on a direct course toward her plummeting son.

At the same time, Violet raised her hands and concentrated. An energy bubble formed around Dash, slowing his descent--just in time for Elastigirl to reach the spot and collide head-on with the bubble.

The impact dazed her and shattered Violet's force ball. Now Dash and Elastigirl were both falling helplessly toward a canyon between two buildings.

"Put another field around them!" Mr. Incredible urged Violet.

"There's no time!" the girl wailed.

Just as death seemed certain, Elastigirl regained her wits and expanded herself into a trampoline, grasping the ledges of the two structures. Dash landed on her back and bounced high into the air. He performed several more bounces before coming to a rest.

"Awesome!" he enthused. "Let's do that again!"

Mr. Incredible shook his head in disappointment. "That situation called for a bit of advance planning."

----

Minutes later the Parrs, having changed into their normal clothes, were discussing their latest defeat while driving through a residential area.

"Well, we learned a little more about The Transfixer today," Bob remarked. "Next time we'll be prepared, won't we?"

"Imagine that," Helen mused. "Being able to switch between male and female at will. Even I'm not that flexible."

"Mom, Dad," said Violet in a nervous, hushed tone, "when The Transfixer was a girl, she looked a lot like Chris Hamilton."

"A lot of girls look like Chris," her mother pointed out.

A shocking realization entered Dash's mind. "Uh-oh..."

"What is it, son?" asked Bob.

"When Chris showed me her face," Dash recalled, "I couldn't look away from it."

A pall descended over the family. No one dared speak what they suddenly knew.

They pulled into their driveway at the same time that the Hamiltons arrived in their station wagon. The two clans left their vehicles, and the Parrs began to glare distrustfully at their neighbors.

"Why are they looking at us like that?" Chris asked her father.

"I...don't know," replied Mr. Hamilton.

Then, as he carefully regarded the suspicious family before him, the truth struck him like a bolt. "Oh, God, no..."

For a moment that seemed like an hour, the Parrs and the Hamiltons only stared at each other wordlessly. Not one of them could think of a way to defuse the uncomfortable situation.

Finally Mr. Hamilton spoke up. Extending a hand to Bob, he said, "I propose a truce. We give up crime, you stop fighting us, and we keep each other's secrets."

"Deal," said Mr. Parr, shaking the man's hand.

The neighbors cemented their peace agreement with a barbecue.

"Just how many supervillans were relocated under this program?" asked Bob as he munched on a hot dog.

"I'm not at liberty to divulge that figure," replied Mr. Hamilton, who was turning over a chicken patty on the grill.

"What's it like, being able to turn into a boy any time you want?" Violet asked Chris.

"I've pretty much taken it for granted," the blond girl answered. "I've had the ability since I was a kid. What's it like being stuck as a girl?"

The next day Chris invited Violet into her circle of shallow friends, and they got along swimmingly. Even though they were on opposite sides of the law, Violet was grateful to know someone her own age who understood the complexities of growing up super.

After school had let out, Violet was once again approached by Marvin, the boy who had taken her number the previous day.

"Hi, Marvin," she said coyly. "What's up?"

"Same old, same old," the boy replied. "School, chess club, music practice."

Violet smiled sympathetically at him.

"Hey, are you doing anything this weekend?" Marvin asked her.

----

Coming up next: _Talons of the Bald Eagle!_


End file.
